I didn't tell anybody but one that I was staying at the snazzy new hotel downtown when my home was being fumigated. I felt like a bit of privacy for a few days and it was a close easy escape. Plush couches, overdressed, over eager bell boys and the sweet smells of new money and old people littered the shiny white on white vestibule. I wanted a little break from the family. They all figured I stayed with one of my friends who lived close by. They didn't expect that I would use my private time to meet up with a stranger, to do things unthinkable without fear or reason, but I felt by his look, his voice, his picture that I would be alright and I was.
I found him posing on a social networking site, the year before, wearing little more than jeans and a tank top, his bear chest over exposing pretty tattoos that looked like some Mayan tapestry. Up and down his chest, arms, and back were signs of hard time labor but his face showed some left over boyish charm. So we talked. We chatted daily about nothing fancy, nothing provocative; the weather, the fact we were neighbors, our family chaos and triumphs over the status quo. We spoke several times over the phone, we were neighbors after all and then it happened. I, in my matter-of-fact tone, mentioned where I was staying for the next couple of days and to my slightly excited surprise, he lived one block away. We said we'd chat in person, have lunch downstairs. It was no big deal. I gave him a time and he was early but I thought nothing of it. I didn't even dress up. I was on my retreat after all dammit, favorite black V-neck day dress, fuzzy slippers, Clark Kent, glasses and my hair in a bun were my attire. In the back of my mind I knew the fuzzy slippers, and nerd glasses were a bit much so I met him at the elevator in my new slip-ons, sans the librarian look.
I watched him come off the elevator in all his bravado. Even though it was pouring rain outside it was suddenly sunny in the hotel hallway. He was smooth skinned and tattooed, tanned and smiling brightly, like those school boys mama warned me about and told me not to speak to as a child. Dark brown eyes hidden behind funky shades didn't not hide the fact that he was staring behind me as I turned to walk back to my room. I was certain that he saw my lack of underwear, I mean I was on my retreat for crying out loud. When he hugged me hello, running his fingers through my hair, I suddenly felt the urge to dance in the rain; damn, he had me. He ushered me toward my room. We walked the long corridor back to my room exchanging the basic pleasantries, but if you asked me what he said, I couldn't tell you. If you asked me his name I couldn't remember. I was enraptured by his stance, his profile at the door so much so I fumbled the room key twice before I could open it. I could feel the air go out of the room as he entered; I was trapped in an old western right before the gun battle and I was out of ammunition. I felt breathless and weak but I couldn't show it for fear he would see me as an easy target, a lonely forgotten Angel without her wings, instead of the more spiritual Earth Mother I was becoming.
As the rain beat against the window behind me I offered him a chair and some tea while I sat clear across the room with baited breath. He removed his damp shirt and I breathed deeply. He smelled of clean linen and mango. He asked me to move closer. He put his funky shades on my desk, took off his skull rings and sat quietly across from me. As he moved closer, he put is face a good ten centimeters from mine and I could feel his cool sweet breath and hear his heart beat. It was actually beating faster than mine, even though he didn't lose his cool composure in kissing me softly. With the pretenses gone, both of our motives floated to the surface without missing a beat. I was smiling. After I calmed my anxieties and relaxed slightly, knowing that the superhuman in front of me was a mere mortal, I fixed my halo and screwed back on my wings, and studied his features for a bit. He was stroking my hair and messing up all that hard flatiron work I put into it the day before. I was trying to place the tribe, since I studied bone structure and the features of Man in college, as I usually do. I was thinking part Moorish Conquistador, part Han and part Aztec Royal Guard. I was actually closer to the truth than I realized later...anyway...to be continued!
I found him posing on a social networking site, the year before, wearing little more than jeans and a tank top, his bear chest over exposing pretty tattoos that looked like some Mayan tapestry. Up and down his chest, arms, and back were signs of hard time labor but his face showed some left over boyish charm. So we talked. We chatted daily about nothing fancy, nothing provocative; the weather, the fact we were neighbors, our family chaos and triumphs over the status quo. We spoke several times over the phone, we were neighbors after all and then it happened. I, in my matter-of-fact tone, mentioned where I was staying for the next couple of days and to my slightly excited surprise, he lived one block away. We said we'd chat in person, have lunch downstairs. It was no big deal. I gave him a time and he was early but I thought nothing of it. I didn't even dress up. I was on my retreat after all dammit, favorite black V-neck day dress, fuzzy slippers, Clark Kent, glasses and my hair in a bun were my attire. In the back of my mind I knew the fuzzy slippers, and nerd glasses were a bit much so I met him at the elevator in my new slip-ons, sans the librarian look.
I watched him come off the elevator in all his bravado. Even though it was pouring rain outside it was suddenly sunny in the hotel hallway. He was smooth skinned and tattooed, tanned and smiling brightly, like those school boys mama warned me about and told me not to speak to as a child. Dark brown eyes hidden behind funky shades didn't not hide the fact that he was staring behind me as I turned to walk back to my room. I was certain that he saw my lack of underwear, I mean I was on my retreat for crying out loud. When he hugged me hello, running his fingers through my hair, I suddenly felt the urge to dance in the rain; damn, he had me. He ushered me toward my room. We walked the long corridor back to my room exchanging the basic pleasantries, but if you asked me what he said, I couldn't tell you. If you asked me his name I couldn't remember. I was enraptured by his stance, his profile at the door so much so I fumbled the room key twice before I could open it. I could feel the air go out of the room as he entered; I was trapped in an old western right before the gun battle and I was out of ammunition. I felt breathless and weak but I couldn't show it for fear he would see me as an easy target, a lonely forgotten Angel without her wings, instead of the more spiritual Earth Mother I was becoming.
As the rain beat against the window behind me I offered him a chair and some tea while I sat clear across the room with baited breath. He removed his damp shirt and I breathed deeply. He smelled of clean linen and mango. He asked me to move closer. He put his funky shades on my desk, took off his skull rings and sat quietly across from me. As he moved closer, he put is face a good ten centimeters from mine and I could feel his cool sweet breath and hear his heart beat. It was actually beating faster than mine, even though he didn't lose his cool composure in kissing me softly. With the pretenses gone, both of our motives floated to the surface without missing a beat. I was smiling. After I calmed my anxieties and relaxed slightly, knowing that the superhuman in front of me was a mere mortal, I fixed my halo and screwed back on my wings, and studied his features for a bit. He was stroking my hair and messing up all that hard flatiron work I put into it the day before. I was trying to place the tribe, since I studied bone structure and the features of Man in college, as I usually do. I was thinking part Moorish Conquistador, part Han and part Aztec Royal Guard. I was actually closer to the truth than I realized later...anyway...to be continued!
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